


Awake My Soul

by dearmrsawyer



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearmrsawyer/pseuds/dearmrsawyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Frost returned as an invisible boy. This is the story of how he learnt that although he could not be seen, he could be felt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awake My Soul

“H-hello? Can you see me? Hello?”

Jack stumbled back, the levity in his feet suddenly countered by the heaving weight in his chest. He tried to meet eyes with anyone who passed him, but no one returned his gaze. He stood in their path, but they did not hesitate to pass through him. He begged for their attention, but they would not give it. 

“Look at me – please! Look at me!”

Jack’s head spun in this unfamiliar village. He had never wandered beyond the frozen lake; he had promised his mother so. With a light stagger he distanced himself from the fire-lit crowd until the earth beneath his feet softened. Looking down, he saw snow wrapped around his bare heels, and realised he could not feel the bite. This had not occurred to him back at the lake. 

Kicking off, Jack rose from the ground just as he’d done earlier. Swirling through the gentle air, he was lifting high above the village that could not see him. The wind swayed him unsteadily from side to side, the only thing holding him aloft. Jack may not have been able to feel the snow, but he could feel the pounding of his own heart, and he wished for one thing only: home.

Jack swan atop the windy current, back towards the lake to retrace his steps. Suspended above the frozen surface, he lifted his gaze to the moon above, it was full and bright on his face, but it was silent. It betrayed no more secrets, no more knowledge.

There were shallow footprints that traced Jack’s arrival at the lake, as well as a second trail that departed alone. Jack swooped along the trail, recognising the path he would take back to his own village. He flew swiftly, racing for his family. He needed to see them – and greater still, for them to see him in return.

Much like the first village, Jack found his own alight with small bonfires, however the mood was not so light. Villagers passed with heads bowed and cloaked held tight at the neck. Jack did not stop for anyone in the streets. His home was no different from all the other huts, but Jack could always spot it, even on the darkest night. A soft glow could be seen beneath the door, and Jack landed roughly, running inside.

In the corner by his bed, he saw two heads of identical chestnut bowed together.

“Mother! Mother, it’s me!” He rushed to kneel at her feet, dipping his head to look up into her face. Lines of salty sorrow slipped down her aged cheeks, and she did not look up. “Mother... Isobel! Isobel, it’s Jack.” He turned to his sister, but she kept her head buried in her mother’s lap, equally deaf to his cries.

Jack’s deflated, his breath slowly escaping as he slumped from his kneeling position, hunched on the ground. 

***

There came a time when all who had known Jack were long gone, and it had been one hundred years since he had been seen. In that time he had travelled much further than the village beyond the frozen lake. He had let the wind carry him to all corners of the earth, over great seas and snowy peaks, into places where people spoke in unrecognisable tongues. He had seen so many, but none had seen him.

In that time Jack had learned much of the world, but he had learned nothing of himself. 

He would spend many days floating the current, letting the wind take him wherever it would. He spent others in seclusion, as he found it difficult to be around blind eyes. 

At the mouth of a shallow, mossy cave, Jack sat hunched beneath his modified coat, the hood dipped over his forehead. Rain thundered down outside, washing out any hopes of travel. He could still ride the wind if he wished, but it would be an uncomfortable journey, and it was difficult to keep hold of the current when the downpour broke the smooth channels of air.

Today, for the first time, he shared this cave with a family who had sought shelter. “What’s the big idea?” he had accusingly hoped to ask when they rushed in without his permission, but he had saved himself the effort. Instead, he had returned to patiently waiting for nightfall. He hoped by then the rain would end and the clouds would subside. He wanted to speak to the Moon. To ask one more time why he was here. What the Moon wanted of Jack Frost. He had asked many times since that first night, but the Moon had been as silent as the stars. Jack had even asked the Sun, but he hadn’t expected much.

The family currently taking shelter included a young girl whose unsteady legs were clearly new to taking steps. She stumbled from one parents to another, and finally made her way over to the cave’s mouth, despite her mother’s heeding call to return. Seated on his stone platform, Jack looked down at the child. There was no point staring out at the relentless rain. He had been forming icicles with its drops, and he noticed the way the child’s brow furrowed when she saw them. Jack had been to this cave many times. He found it an honest loneliness, rather than the lie of being surrounded by people. But in all the times Jack had sought solace in this cave, never once had he seen it snow. Watching the young girl’s bright eyes, Jack realised she had never seen anything like this before.

Dipping his staff, Jack pressed the nook against a drop of water dangling from the tip of the icicle. Over and over, until the icicle was long enough for the girl to reach for it. At it’s touch she whipped her hand back and giggled in delight. Jack felt something spark inside himself. Something he had not felt since the first night he had become Jack Frost. It felt like contact, like a connection with the girl’s spirit. He could not be seen, but his powers could.

Relishing the moment, Jack leant forward and pressed his staff to a flower wilting under the pressure of the rain. It instantly turned to ice, and the girl gasped in amazement. She hurriedly wobbled back and beckoned her mother to come and see. 

A warmth filled Jack’s chest; one he had lacked since his inception as a spirit of the cold. It spread into his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, so that before he could stop it, he was smiling too.

**Author's Note:**

> I took a liberty with Jack's sister's name as i needed her to have one.


End file.
